Choosing A Side
by Shuiro Ecstacy
Summary: For years he tried to prove his love for Elizabeth, and now was his final chance to do it. The only cost is his own life. WARNING: Contains several At World's End spoilers.


A/N: A oneshot describing the death of Admiral James Norrington.

This was one of my favorite scenes in the movie, and then again, probably one of my least favorite. I felt that this was a very strong, important part of the POTC series, and there was more to it than meets the eye. So I've decided to translate it into words.

In honor of James Norrington: _A good man, a good sailor, and a great POTC character._

* * *

Elizabeth and her crew watched as the Admiral approached their cell. She didn't know if her crew noticed what she did – she was certain they were too eager to see what he was up to in order to take in the details of what he was holding in his hand; a small, silver but rusted key. The metal door opened with an echoing creak, and James Norrington stepped aside.

"Come with me," he said. Elizabeth heard the plea in his voice; she knew he was afraid. He was afraid of losing his job, and what's more, his life. Still, she remained where she stood, leaning back casually but proudly against the pillar in the cell's center. Her crew eyed Norrington, then their captain, waiting for orders.

When Elizabeth did nothing, impatience flickered in James' eyes. "Quickly!"

Elizabeth took all of two seconds to think about it, then turned her head to the side, giving the men around her a signal to do what they longed to do more than anything at the moment. They simultaneously exited their prison, murmuring to each other in excitement and relief. James kept his eyes on them as they hurried down the musty corridor.

Elizabeth stepped forward after the last man had left. She leaned slightly against the 'doorway' of the cell, curiousity and mistrust filling her gaze.

"What are you doing?"

James felt a strong, physical pain in his chest, and he was sure it was heartache. She was so unbelievably stubborn that he wondered how he'd come to love her as much as he did. Then again, he secretly asked himself in the back of his head if he was really doing this out of guilt; he knew he had no responsibility when it came to the governor's death, but she blamed him, and it broke him to pieces inside. All he knew for sure was that he wanted to do this for her; in spite of the fact that he could lose everything he had for it.

Turning his head sharply at her, he looked intently into her eyes… the ones he'd come to adore so much. They were her beauties; every secret, all of her emotions, every bit of strength she had… it was all behind those incredible, bright orbs. He parted his lips slightly and spoke softly.

"Choosing a side."

* * *

He was afraid he was going to fall, but he refused to show fear in front of the one he loved. Her crew – which still shocked him yet that she had – was in front of him, and he finally stepped onto the wider platform at the point of the ship. The Chinese men were clinging to the rope ahead of the ship, moving as quickly as they could for their lives.

Elizabeth came to his view, and he turned to her. His heart was racing at the danger that filled the air around them. There were so many people – and creatures – that were near and would have loved to kill them for what they were doing. Elizabeth's eyes finally met his, and he swallowed carefully, speaking with a quicker pace this time.

"Do not go to Shipwreck Cove. Becket knows of the meeting of the Brethren… I fear there may be a traitor among them." And he cursed whoever that traitor may be; it only meant Elizabeth would be in more danger. He looked back out at the sea, watching his prisoners escape by his doing. He could feel Elizabeth's stare on him, and it gave him a great deal of discomfort. She stepped forward again.

"It's too late to earn my forgiveness," she growled bitterly, and he could hear the anger and distaste in her voice. He wanted so much to tell her he could bring her father back… he wanted to be able to take every kind of pain she held and make it his own; hell, he deserved it more than she did. Instead, he looked at her again, but he was not able to hide the desperateness in his expression.

"I had nothing to do with your father's death," he told her. Elizabeth felt a sudden urge to believe him; he was beginning to convince her, but there were many more reasons for his actions, and there were many more things he'd done in the past that she was bringing into her frustration with him all at once.

She felt guilty for a quick moment; it wasn't entirely fair to hold a grudge against a man that was risking his life for her, but he turned his head again and looked at the floor below them.

"But… that does not absolve me of my other sins," he said more quietly and slowly this time. Elizabeth could hear the hurt and regret in his voice, and she broke. James was a good man… he had always been a good man, and she remembered with an inward smile the conversation she and her servant had had the night that Captain Barbossa had attacked her town. She looked back out at the long, sturdy rope, finalizing her decision. She took in a quick breath and shot out, "Come with us."

James snapped his gaze back in her direction, and all he saw was sincerity and seriousness. A flame of hope and gratefulness flared inside him. Stunned by her words, he could not respond, and she looked at him.

"James, come with me."

His heart jumped; she'd said his name, and this time, she'd replaced 'us' with 'me'. Elizabeth still cared about James, and he could feel it. Dim as it was, it was there, and he nearly smiled at her.

"_Who goes there?_"

Elizabeth and James gasped in unison, and he threw his arm around her waist, pulling her behind him. Like hell he was going to let _any_ harm come to her. They both looked up at the source of the voice, and Elizabeth's heart stopped when she saw it was William's father. Bootstrap saw them, and his eyes widened in fury. He began to make his way to their location. James let a few short breaths of fear loose, keeping his arm protectively in front of Elizabeth.

"Go," he commanded. "I will follow." He knew instantly it was a lie; he knew there was no way of killing this enemy, and he wasn't likely to be spared by someone who hated him and the company that had taken over the ship.

Elizabeth nodded swiftly, then did a double take at James. There was no honesty in his voice, and she quickly processed the chances James had if he tried to let her go. They weren't high.

"You're lying," she said, her voice cracking. James looked at her for the millionth time that night, and felt it again; he felt the immense heartache that ripped his heart to shreds. He chose his words carefully, for he knew they were the last she would hear emit from his mouth.

"Our destinies have been entwined, Elizabeth," he told her. "But never joined…"

Elizabeth wanted to scream. She wanted to yell everything she could at him, tell him, "_No, no! It isn't true! This isn't right!_" But she couldn't. Her lungs stopped working for a mere second as she saw something flicker in James' eyes. She watched him lean forward, and she knew what was coming. She let him do it; and she allowed her eyelids to drop as his lips covered hers.

Something in the kiss made her heart beat double time; there was more than love, and it was nothing close to lust. It was something Will had never given in his kisses, Jack had only returned the kiss she gave, and she sure as hell didn't even _consider_ Sao Feng's action a kiss.

No… this was different. There was a brilliant passion, and her chest ached at the emotion and care she felt transmitting through to her. He was telling her everything he wanted her to know through the kiss; he'd meant it when he had proposed to her. He'd let her engage to Will because he had known it was her heart's choice. That day, on the Black Pearl, when he had said, "_There was a time when I would have given anything to have you look like that while thinking about me_," he had _meant_ it; he really would have given anything.

The one thing he was saying the most, though, was that he _loved_ her. He loved her more than life, and he cared for her more than he cared for himself. He was protecting her because he valued her safety more than his own.

Elizabeth found herself kissing back, for his sake. She wanted to let him know that despite her earlier words, she appreciated everything he had done for her, and would never forget it. It was there in her eyes also, as they pulled apart.

James felt that the kiss – the one kiss he'd always wanted and dreamed of getting – had ended all too quickly, and he turned back to face his oncoming enemy, saying, "Go, now!"

Elizabeth wanted to hug him, tell him _everything_ she could. But now was not the time. She gave James one final glance, then followed her crew on the rope.

James wanted to follow. He truly did, but he would have a lesser chance of keeping Elizabeth safe if he didn't stay behind and hold off the filthy creatures that would come after them. Speaking of which, he noticed movement to his left, and raised his sword.

"Back to your station, sailor," he hissed as the cursed man came to a halt. James watched him look at Elizabeth, then back at James himself.

"No one leaves the ship," he stated, as if quoting a rulebook. James had already had enough of this; he was tired of the arrogant idiots on this ship, trapping everyone they could with no questions.

"Stand down," he snarled quietly, though his voice was quivering. "That's an _order_."

The creature looked down, as if confused. "That's an order," he repeated, whispering. James watched him carefully; it was almost like he was trying to remember something. Suddenly, the creature's head jerked up again.

"Part of the crew, part of the ship," he said in an undertone. "Part of the crew, part of the ship! Part of the crew –"

"Steady, man!" James tried to calm him, but he only continued to chant the 'rule' that was so ridiculous to those who were not _actually_ a part of the crew.

"All hands! Prisoner escape!" The man shouted, alarming the rest of the ship's crew. A wave of fear swept over James, and he pulled his gun from its case.

"Belay that!" he ordered, but he knew it was no use. He suddenly heard Elizabeth behind him. She cried out his name, and his heart stopped. He turned to face her, the man behind him, and then the rope Elizabeth hung from. He heard her crew scream, but more regrettably, her heard her scream, and cringed slightly at the sound of them hitting the water.

He turned quickly to face his crazed opponent again. He felt something pierce his skin, and knew it was over. Cold, sharp metal filled its own hole it was making, and he choked, leaning forward in shock. He heard Elizabeth's voice again, and this time it was a scream. It was the scream that rose hatred in every part of his body; it made him hate whatever was causing her that amount of fear or pain to scream. He felt the heartache again… the heartache that pained him more than any blade ever would.

He fell back to the ground, the sword still inside him. His vision was blurring, but he could see the rest of the ship's original crew surrounding his slumped body. He heard murmurs of, "The Admiral's dead…?" and another to his right, "To the captain's cabin!" and, "Back to the ship!" followed by excited cheers and shouts from everyone as they left the area.

He watched Davy Jones step forward and kneel in front of him. Water dripped from his facial tentacles onto his stomach, burning his wound.

"James Norrington, do you fear death?"

James found that he could no longer speak; even if he had tried to, blood would have taken his words' place. Instead, he lifted his still clean sword and thrust it through Jones' right shoulder. He let his arm drop limply again, and his vision was gone. He let out one final, long breath, and during this breath he heard Jones stand again.

"I take that as a 'no'," the sarcastic voice said. He heard his sword being pulled from Jones' shoulder, and he heard the man take a step with his wooden leg. "Nice sword," he complimented, and he walked away, followed by Bootstrap.

James wanted nothing more than the strength to stab Jones once more with the sword that he held in his body, but he could no longer even find the strength to breathe.

As the steps and cries of the crew faded away, so did everything else. James Norrington was no more.

* * *

A/N: I hope I got all the dialogue right; I was watching this scene as I typed it. I had to pause and rewind quite a few times though, hehe. Please, let me know how I did for my first Pirates of The Caribbean fic!


End file.
